


Flawless Diamonds

by WafflesAndPancakes



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Charles has a soft spot for Max, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, M/M, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use, there are also heathers references in here lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21335875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WafflesAndPancakes/pseuds/WafflesAndPancakes
Summary: Charles hates this part of town, but the things you do for love.OrThis was originally a different pairing but this fit too
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Flawless Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> this is a work of fiction, don't take it seriously, this never happened

Charles had always hated this place. It was the part of the town, his parents had told him not to go to, and he could definitely see why: The houses were run-down, the streets were dirty and every person he came across looked ragged and done with their life. This part of the town was a place where you wouldn't want to be after a specific hour, where you would not let your kids out to play without being around, heck, you would not even be here if you had kids. This was home to the people lowest in the hierarchy: the poor, the prostitutes, the drug-addicts and their dealers. It was not a place for a boy like Charles, a boy from a nice family, a good student and a great athlete. He was too pure, too angelic, too innocent to be here, and still, something dragged him here over and over again. Or rather said, someone.

He walked through the streets, walking around the hills of trash that the city did not even think about removing, keeping his eyes open for something that might be dangerous. His feet knew the way on their own when he had to turn left when he had to turn right, when he had to walk through that one small alley and the small courtyard, before knocking on the third door to the right. A familiar face opened the door, the dark bags under his eyes seemingly having gotten bigger since the last time they had seen each other, the black hood of his hoodie pulled over his head, a few strands of his dark hair coming out from under it. Charles smiled and walked in as the other boy opened the door a bit more.

"You look like hell."

"Yeah? I just got back."

Normally, Max would have been a beautiful boy, Charles knew it. He had seen him before. He had seen him before all of this had happened. Max had a great bone structure, full lips, and beautiful blue eyes. He could have been a model, if it was not for the dark shadows under his eyes, for the grease in his hair, for the sweet smell that surrounded him every day. If it was not for the fact that he had lost control of his life.

"Got down from a high or some stranger's dick?"

"First thing. You know that I work in the evening."

He knew. He knew all too well. Max had thrown him out way too often in the evening because another customer would come by because he needed to make some money. For food, for rent, but mostly for drugs. Weed, most of the time, but sometimes also harder stuff, when the pain and the memories were too strong than that simple weed could calm his mind.

When they had met the first time, it had been when Max was still normal. As normal as he had ever been, which was not as normal as other people but better than now, better than the drug addict he had become. They had been classmates, nothing more than the kind of friends who know the same people and therefore hang around together with those people from time to time. But when Max had disappeared, straight-up vanished from school, Charles had felt as if he was the only one who had cared about the boy, where he was and why he had dropped out of school. And when he had stalked his way through the internet, he had found Max's address, leading him to the old house of which he still was surprised that it didn't crash down when the wind hit it. He had wanted to knock, but the door was being opened already, a middle-aged man escaping the house, a man that had been pressing Max down onto his bed, taking him in every way he wanted to. He left a tired and literally fucked-looking Max standing in the doorway, bruised and with dilated eyes. And now they were sitting on the very same bed in which Max had welcomed so many of his customers, in which he fell deeper and deeper into his addiction.

"You know you can always come home with me, right?"

"And you know I tried. So many times. I just can't. I say this is the last one... And then another one happens... And another one."

Charles watched closely as Max rolled another joint, some weed falling onto the blanket, but Max did not care about it, so it laid there like a reminiscent of what his life had become. Chasing the highs in his life. With a deep sigh, Charles took Max's wrist, looking him directly into the eyes.

"Promise me that this will truly be the last one. You will come home with me tonight, and we will figure this out. Together."

Max looked at him with tired eyes. It felt as if every joy had left his body such a long time ago... as if he had given up on life. It was not even living anymore, it was barely existing, trying to get from day to day, being surprised to wake up the next day.

Charles knew that Max had not had the best childhood. He knew that he had to fight every day since the day he had been born, fight for his father's attention, fight for his father's approval. And when it was not enough, when he did not try enough, it was when it became bloody. Max's body was a big collection of scars, a reminiscent of all those nights when Max had not been enough. When he had not been the son his father had wanted. When he was nothing more than a... thing to let out his energy, to blow off some steam, so satisfy his needs.

But they had tried to make it work. Ever since Charles had found Max, they had tried to make their relationship work. Charles had taught him how to love, he had taught him what love even was. They had taken it slow, Charles had gained his trust, but every time he had visited him, he could see how Max had grown, how Max had become a new, better person. Still, sometimes he would visit and find Max high in his room, a nearly finished joint in his hand, after having promised him that he would get away from the drugs. It broke his heart each and every time, but Charles knew that Max needed professional help if he wanted to stop for good.

When he looked into his eyes now, Charles could see the regret in Max's eyes, that he regretted his choice of coping with drugs, his choice of dropping out, his choice of getting high again, even though he had known that Charles was about to visit. But he could also see the happiness, the relief that he was still there. That he was not disappointed like his father had been so many times.

Charles put his hand on Max's cheek and leaned in, pecking his lips softly. He felt how Max tensed, he still did that even though he told him over and over again that he liked when they kissed, that it was just one of his coping mechanisms. Slowly but surely, he melted a bit more with every kiss Charles pressed on his lips, getting his lips to move against his and burying his hands in Charles' hair.

"You're so beautiful," Charles whispered, eyes locking with Max's as he pulled him closer, resting his forehead against his.

"Not as beautiful as you are."

"You're beautiful in your own way, Maxi."

Max fell silent for a moment and just looked at Charles, making the latter slightly uncomfortable. Had he said something wrong?

"I love you."

Max's voice was quiet, and Charles nearly missed what he had been saying, but a soft smile appeared on his lips as the realization kicked in.

"I love you too, Max."

Their lips met again, harder this time, more passionate, pouring their feelings into the kiss, Max's fear of going through rehab, Charles' promise about never giving up on him. They parted, both smiling like idiots, and Charles got up slowly, pulling Max with him.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you a shower before packing your things. I want to get out of here before it turns dark!"

Max followed him, still smiling as they undressed and squeezed into the small shower, showering each other in kisses while Charles was trying to turn on the water. His back hit the cold tiles as Charles pressed him against them, his body starting to warm up under the hot water as Charles slowly got on his knees, keeping his mind focused on what they were doing.

Maybe that had been his last joint. The last time. Maybe a better time would come now.

**Author's Note:**

> Titel from "South of the Border" by Ed Sheeran ft. Camila Cabello and Cardi B


End file.
